


Dying Inside

by CharlotteDaBookworm



Series: Somnusson AU [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Betrayal, Bittersweet, Crucifixion, Execution, Family Fluff, Filicide, Fluff and Angst, Fratricide, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Nyx is Somnus' son, Platonic Relationships, Psychological Torture, Regicide, Solheim (Final Fantasy XV), Temporary Character Death, Torture, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 04:04:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17134601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharlotteDaBookworm/pseuds/CharlotteDaBookworm
Summary: Blue eyes blinked open, looking up at Somnus blearily, and he was captivated. “Hello, starshine,” he said softly, feeling his face stretch in a massive grin. “I’m your daddy and I love you so much already.”“I’ll always protect you, Nyx,” Somnus vowed quietly, swearing it to the old gods and the new. “You’ll always be safe with me.”-And the last thing that Nyx saw was that man’s cold, uncaring eyes as he murdered him. The last thing he felt was the sharp pain of a spear - his spear, the one that had been a birthday gift from him, he had spent hours learning to use with this very man, that Nyx had loved for the bond that it represented and now hated – wielded by his dad as it pierced his gut and sliced.Or: the tragedy of Nyx Hypnos Ulric, son of Somnus Lucis Caelum





	Dying Inside

**Author's Note:**

> 'There are no happy endings.  
> Endings are the saddest part,  
> So just give me a happy middle  
> And a very happy start.' - Shel Silverstein

**Dying Inside**

Nyx stared in horror at the figure that towered over him, radiating cold power in the way that most beings breathed.

 

“What?” He choked out through a closed throat, unable to believe what he had just heard. He had to be wrong, had to have heard the being in front of him incorrectly.

 

**_“ARDYN LUCIS CAELUM MUST DIE FOR THIS STAR TO BE SAVED”_ **

 

For a moment, all he could do was shake his head mutely in disbelief. Nyx couldn’t - _wouldn’t_ \- believe that, would never believe that his uncle couldn’t be saved, and he refused to believe that his death was _necessary_.

 

The world didn’t _work_ that way, life wasn’t scales to be balanced and the death of one man - no matter how great the man - couldn’t save everyone else. It just wasn’t possible.

 

“You’re _wrong_.”

 

**_“NO, SON OF SOMNUS, I AM NOT INCORRECT. IN ORDER FOR THIS WORLD AND THOSE WHO EXIST ON IT TO CONTINUE ONWARDS, ARDYN LUCIS CAELUM MUST FALL AT THE HANDS OF HIS KIN. HE HAS OVERSTEPPED HIMSELF AND TAKEN UPON HIMSELF TOO MUCH OF THE SCOURGE AND THE TAINT MUST BE PURGED FROM THE WORLD BEFORE IT CORRUPTS ALL OF HUMANITY”_ **

 

What. _What_.

 

 **No**.

 

Anger flushed out all of the shock in his system, racing like fire in his veins and Nyx sneered at the Astral who was demanding the slaughter of a dying man. Who was denigrating a healer who just wanted to _help people._

 

“I will not _murder_ my kin, no matter what you say.” He hissed, eyes alight with his magic.

 

The Astral titled God of War slowly shook his head, armour creaking loudly. **_“NOT YOU. THE ACCURSED-SAGE SHALL FALL AT THE HANDS OF HIS BROTHER_** ”

 

It was like being doused with ice water. All of his anger disappeared in an instant and was replaced with utter disbelief as he stared at Bahamut in complete shock. Did he really think…?

 

He laughed.

 

“Then it will never happen,” he declared certainly, unshakable in his conviction that his words were truth. “My father will never kill his brother.”

 

A pause, and Nyx got the impression that the god was looking down at him with the expression of an adult looking at a child doing something that was convinced of something obviously false.

 

**_“SOMNUS LUCIS CAELUM HAS ALREADY AGREED”_ **

 

“No. No, you are wrong. My father is a good man and he loves Uncle Ardyn and we are going to find a way to _help him_ , not do whatever you have been planning. He would _never_ do that and if you think so then you do not know my father.” Nyx protested vehemently, taking a step forward at the sheer _audacity_ of the Draconian to claim that his father would kill his own kin.

 

Bahamut laughed, the sound chilling him to his bones and freezing him in place. **_“IT IS NOT I WHO DOES NOT KNOW THE TRUTH OF SOMNUS LUCIS CAELUM, YOUNG PRINCE”_**

 

He blinked and the astral was gone, his last words still echoing in the room.

 

Nyx _snarled_ in outrage. How _dare_ he? How dare he say that Nyx did not know his own father? How dare he claim that the man would commit an act such as that? Astral or not, God of War or not, how dare he?

 

The room fell silent, all traces of the Draconian gone, and he cursed.

 

 _Fuck_.

 

He needed to speak to his father.

 

An astral claiming him as a kin-slayer? As an oathbreaker? People would believe that purely due to the position of the one saying it, regardless of what they themselves knew, and his father would never recover from such an accusation.

 

This could end in his death and his dad needed to know of Bahamut’s lies in order to protect himself.

 

Spinning on his heel, Nyx stalked from the room.

 

* * *

 

"Hey, starshine," A familiar voice called, and Nyx's head shot up, interrupting his conversation with his uncle. Squinting in the light of the sun that was shining through into the private garden, he stared at his father in shock. "Happy birthday!"

 

 _"Dad!"_ Nyx whined at the childhood nickname, but he was unable to force down the bright smile that formed on his face even as he stumbled upwards and pulled his dad into a fierce hug. "I've missed you, dad," he whispered into the man’s ear, clinging to his father desperately after months of necessary separation.

 

And it was necessary, Nyx probably knew that better than anyone. They had been doing their damnedest to hold everything together even as Uncle Ardyn kept getting more and more ill, and it had led to Nyx - as his uncles heir and the crowned prince - taking on a lot of the day-to-day running of everything months ago in an effort to slow down the progression of his illness by allowing him to rest, leaving only the most important things that he couldn’t take care of on his own for his Uncle. And his father was the best diplomat in the Kingdom and, as such, was constantly away placating allies and reinforcing treaties because they couldn’t afford war or even to be seen weak.

 

Nyx understood the necessity of sending his father away, had made that choice himself more than once over the last year, because he was a prince - was _Crown Prince_ \- and his people and their safety came before all else, but just because something was necessary didn’t mean that he had to like it. It didn’t mean that he didn’t miss his family.

 

Because he did. He missed his uncle Ardyn: missed the man who had helped to raise him, who joked about the nobles with him and lost himself for days in the library and took him traveling with him whenever they could get away with it, who faded more and more each day, who was a mere shadow of the vibrant figure of Nyx’s youth. He missed Gil: missed the silent comforting presences of his dad and uncle’s Shield, missed the man who had guided him through the first steps of using a blade and was surprisingly good at the hiding part of hide-and-seek.

 

And he missed his dad.

 

He missed the man who snuck him chocolate from across Eos and read him bedtime stories and plotted elaborate pranks against his uncle. He missed the man who despaired over Nyx’s skills with people and blushed his way through the sex talk and couldn’t sing to save his life. That man, who he so rarely saw these days in favour of the diplomat who was known world-wide, that man Nyx missed.

 

 _So much_.

 

Nyx just… He missed his _dad._

 

So, to have him here now? To have his whole family together again, for however short a time? That was the best present that Nyx could have asked for.

 

“I love you,” he said quietly, burying his face into his father’s shoulder and breathing in the familiar scent of apples and sword oil and leather and wood that had always whispered _comfort_ to Nyx.

 

His dad grinned warmly back at him. “Love you too, starshine.”

 

For a long moment, they just stand there, breathing together and just taking in each other’s presence, before they pulled back and stepped apart.

 

Nyx took a deep breath, forcing his hands to drop back to his sides and pushing away the _pain_ at the separation and the urge to cling to his dad and never let go again. He had duties and people who needed him, and Nyx couldn’t afford to cling to his dad anymore. He couldn’t afford to be a _child_ anymore.

 

Besides, they were here now. That was more than enough… Right?

 

Right.

 

“Little night.” A deep voice rumbled quietly and Nyx _grinned_ , spinning on his heel and launching himself at the towering figure - trusting the man to catch him as he had always done before.

 

“Uncle Gil!” He cried, clinging to the man’s torso like he was a monkey - both of his arms and legs wrapped around his chest - and pouting a little at the fact that he was _still_ so much taller than you. Holding himself in place with his legs, Nyx moved his arms so that he could poke at massive shoulders. “What are we _feeding_ you?”

 

A giant hand reached out and plucked him up by the back of his collar, holding him up to eye-level like a misbehaving kitten, and Nyx frowned at his pseudo-uncle as he hung in the air and, in the background, Uncle Ardyn and his dad cackled at him. Why did this always happen? “Vegetables,” Gilgamesh said sardonically.

 

“Uncle _Gil_ ,” Nyx whined petulantly, annoyed that his uncle would tease him like this. His uncle raised an eyebrow at him and he sighed. _“Fine_.” Urgh. He hated vegetables.

 

With his agreement - however reluctant - to eat his vegetables, Gil placed him gently back on the ground and patted him on the head patronisingly. “Good.”

 

Nyx scowled, leaning away and pushing at Gil’s hand half-heartedly for a moment before his happiness at being surrounded by his family again overwhelmed everything and he couldn’t help but smile.

 

But still, his _hair_.

 

Glancing between two of the three people he loved most in the world and smiling so wide that it made his face hurt, he couldn’t help but say warmly, “welcome home.”

 

This was the best birthday ever.

 

“Right!” Uncle Ardyn said loudly, a wide grin on his face - one that warmed Nyx to see, it having become so rare as his uncle had gotten worse - as he clapped and made Nyx and his dad jump at the sudden noise. “It’s present time for my favourite nephew!”

 

“Unless dad has something that he has to tell us, I’m your _only_ nephew Uncle Ardyn!” He called after his King, laughing, as he meandered inside to gather whatever gift he had decided upon this year.

 

“Still my favourite!” His uncle called back as his disappeared inside and Nyx laughed again, even as he was unable to take his eyes off of where his uncle had left from.

 

He didn’t often dare look away these days.

 

“How is he?” His dad asked quietly, gaze focused in the same direction as Nyx’s own.

 

“Today’s a good day.” Which was a miracle in and of itself, honestly, after the recent string of bad days. He hadn’t seen his uncle this active in weeks. Nyx hesitated a moment before lowering his voice further and continuing on. “But he’s been getting worse. This is _killing him_ , dad, he’s fading away and It gets worse with each person he heals. We’re _losing him_ and I’m terrified that he’s already gone past the point of no return and all he’s doing now is killing himself faster.” Nyx bit back the tears that burnt at his eyes and leaned into the arm that his father wrapped around his shoulders.

 

His uncle was dying, and he couldn’t _do_ anything and that hurt.

 

“It’ll be okay, Nyx. We’ll find a way to help him, I swear it.” His dad whispered, and Nyx breathed in the comfort in those words, let the confidence in his father’s voice reassure him, and plastered on a fake smile as his uncle finally reappeared.

 

A smile that very quickly became a lot more real as his uncle bounced up to him and waved a cloth wrapped gift in his face with a smirk.

 

Opening it, Nyx couldn’t help but laugh. “Uncle, really?” He asked, holding up the - so soft - plush coeurl that was wearing an exact replica of his circlet and the entire thing must have taken his uncle _hours_ to make. It was adorable, and he fell in love with it on sight.

 

Ardyn laughed happily as Nyx hugged the plush to himself with a dopey grin.

 

So _soft_.

 

“I love it!” He gushed to his smiling uncle, plush still clutched to his chest even as all three of the men around him grinned at the way that he kept stroking soft fur and Nyx couldn’t even bring himself to be embarrassed. They all already knew about his love of soft things and his collection of fluffy blankets anyway. “Thank you!”

 

The sound of a throat clearing tore Nyx’s attention away from his gift and to his dad, who had his hands behind his back and was obviously hiding something.

 

“I know that it’s been a very busy year and that Gil and I haven’t been around often, but we found this when we passed by some merchants several months ago and immediately thought of you…” His voice trailed off and Nyx gasped as his dad held out a beautifully carved spear.

 

The metal tip glistened dangerously in the sunlight and the shaft was embossed with thousands of tiny stars and it was very obviously both custom made and masterfully done.

 

“Oh _wow_ ,” he breathed, tucking the plush under one arm as he reached out to grasp the spear, shifting as he tested the balance and falling into the basic stances for a stave that he’d learnt at his uncle’s knee years ago. “It’s beautiful. Thank you, both of you, so much. But I don’t know how to use a spear...” And he couldn’t imagine such a beautiful weapon not being used.

 

Grinning, his dad stepped forward and adjusted his stance. “Then it’s a good thing that we’ll have a few weeks to beat the basics into you.”

 

A beat passed. Then two.

 

Nyx stared at his dad and his uncles, all of whom were grinning at his gaping mouth and lack of composure, in shock as the words processed in his mind.

 

Then, he threw himself at them all, tackling them to the ground in a hug as he laughed, completely delighted.

 

This was the _best birthday ever_.

 

* * *

 

 

“We have a problem,” he said as he stormed into his father’s office and marched up to the desk.

 

His dad looked up from his paperwork - Nyx winced internally at the reminder of the documents waiting on his own desk - with a frown and he hardly noticed as Gil slipped behind him to close the door. “Nyx? A problem? What is it?”

 

“The Draconian,” Nyx said grimly, tossing himself into the chair by the desk - ignoring the scolding looks shot at him by the two older men - and slumping down in it as the burst of energy that his outrage had given him drained away, leaving him shattered and dearly reminded of just how little sleep he’d gotten the past few months. With a sigh, Nyx rubbed at his forehead; trying to push away the building migraine. He didn’t have _time_ for any of this. “The Draconian is our problem.”

 

His dad laughed, the act highlighting the deep bags under his eyes.

 

Nyx scowled. “I’m serious, dad.”

 

“I know, I know, starshine,” he said with a small smile still on his face, waving a hand. “What did He do _now_ that is a problem for us?” He asked even as he looked back down at his paperwork.

 

“He tried to convince me that Uncle has been corrupted by the scourge that he took into himself and that you are going to kill him to rid the world of that taint.” It was Nyx that laughed this time, a short, disbelieving sound, as he shook his head.

 

His father said nothing, and Nyx frowned, sitting up in his chair.

 

“Dad! This is a serious problem, if anyone had overheard what He was saying they would believe Him, and it could _ruin_ you and everything that we have worked for!”

 

There was still no response and he took the opportunity to actually _look_ at his father and peer past the familiar signs of exhaustion.

 

“…Dad?” He asked worriedly.

 

“You are right. This could court war, and we cannot afford that as we are now.”

 

Nyx swallowed. He’d known, had come to the same conclusion himself, but hearing it said aloud by his _father_ was different. “What are we going to do?”

 

Finally, his father looked up at him again, setting aside his paperwork solemnly and just staring at him for a long moment. When he spoke, it was quiet and serious - a tone of voice that Nyx only heard when they were discussing topics that his father _knew_ Nyx wouldn’t like - and it set him on edge. “Nyx.” He started and then paused, sighing, before standing and walking around his desk so that he could lean against the edge in front of Nyx.

 

“Nyx, you know that your uncle is very ill. And you know that he is not getting better, no matter how hard we look.”

 

Carefully, Nyx nodded. “But we are going to find a way to help him, it may take a while longer, but we will…” he started, only to stop when his dad shook his head.

 

“Nyx, starshine, there is nothing that we can do for him anymore. Your uncle is gone, all that lives in his body now is the scourge-”

 

He shot to his feet, shocked. “No! No, dad, you are _wrong_. Uncle Ardyn is fine; ill, yes, but still himself, please tell me that you don’t believe His lies.” 

 

“I am sorry, starshine, but your uncle is dead. Trapped by the scourge that he attempted to purge, and this is the only way to grant him peace. The Draconian assures me that killing the container of the scourge will cleanse its taint from the world and free Ardyn from its grasp.”

 

His father stared back at him, a solemn look in his eyes, and he shook his head rapidly as he stumbled back a step.

 

“This is a joke, right? Is this revenge for the incident with the birds and the ice-cream? Because I have already apologised for that.”

 

“This is not a joke, Nyx.” His dad - his _dad_ \- said calmly.

 

“You are insane.” He breathed, staring at his father in horror and growing anger. “You cannot believe that.”

 

 _You can’t. Please, dad, you can’t. You are talking about_ killing _uncle, your own_ brother _, and you cannot be serious. Please_.

 

“Nyx…”

 

“Father, _please_.”

 

His father sighed again. “I want to do this no more than you, my son, but your uncle is dead, my brother is dead, and we have a duty - to him, to our people, and to every being that lives on this world - to cleanse the taint of the scourge from our star, no matter the cost.”

 

“You are talking about _killing_ him!”

 

Nyx watched in horror as his dad shook his head. “No, Nyx, I am talking about saving him by killing the creature that wears his face.”

 

“ _There is no creature!”_ His voice broke half-way through the yell and his eyes burned with unshed tears. “There is no creature father, there is just Uncle, and he is ill, and we are meant to be _helping him!_ ”

 

“We _are_ helping him, starshine.”

 

And, when he looked at his father, all Nyx could see was this horrible conviction. _He believes that._ He realised, the thought breaking his heart. _He truly believes that_.

 

“ _No_.” He said, shaking his head and pushing back his tears. “No, father, you do not want to help him, you just want to kill him.” Nyx swallowed, steeling himself and summoning his blades. “And I cannot let you do that.”

 

His father closed his eyes, something terribly like grief in his eyes. “And I am sorry Nyx, but I cannot let you stop me.”

 

Nyx lunged before he could think, letting years of training and experience guide him in a strike, only to hesitate when he realised that his father was _open_.

 

 _This is my dad. This is my_ dad _and I can’t kill him_. 

 

He pulled his blow, trying to redirect his blades to non-fatal areas, and it cost him dearly. A strike from behind reminded him of the other presence in the room - a presence that he had noted but had dismissed as _safe_ \- and Nyx cursed as pain bloomed across his back.

 

Then, his world went dark.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Are you certain that that is the move you wish to make?”

 

Nyx froze, fingers hovering directly above the piece that he was about to pick up, and stared at his father, wide-eyed. “Yes?” He said voice lilting into a question at the scepticism on his father’s face. Looking back down at the board, and at the game that he was currently badly losing at _again_ , he grimaced. “No?”

 

There was silence from the other side of the board and he sighed. Reaching for a different piece, and rolling the carved wood in his fingers, he decided to play it safe and just shifted it forwards before slumping down in his seat.

 

Nyx cursed the day that his uncle Gil had introduced this game to his dad.

 

His dad who just raised an eyebrow at his choice in moves, shifting one of his own pieces almost without thinking and taking one of Nyx’s. “Check.”

 

What?

 

“What?!” Nyx jolted, sitting up and scanning the board furiously. Fuck, he was _right_. “Dad!” He whined, tossing his arms into the air in frustration.

 

“You should have stuck with your first choice in moves, instead of changing your mind.” He said seriously, but there was a small smile on his face at Nyx’s actions and Nyx scowled _(and it wasn’t a pout, damn it, uncle Gil!)_

 

“You made me doubt myself!” He protested, grumbling.

 

His father just looked at him solemnly and Nyx quietened, focusing on the older man. “And you shouldn’t have allowed me to do so. You were certain that your choice was the correct one until you were questioned on it, and then you let my opinion affect how you viewed that choice. You are a wonderful tactician Nyx, but you struggle with strategy because of your tendency to second-guess yourself and overthink your every move, backing yourself into corners you have to fight to escape from. You are your uncles’ heir and will be King one day in the far future; you must learn to trust in your instincts.”

 

Nyx frowned, confused, even if a part of him wanted to preen at the praise. “But you have always taught me to listen to what others say and take that into account.”

 

His dad nodded. “Always listen to your advisors, that is what they are there for, but in the end, they are just that, _advisors_ , and just because you listen does not mean that you should _act_. Form your own opinions, be your own man, and stop worrying so much about disagreeing with people. Do you understand?”

 

“I think so?” Nyx said, biting his lip as he thought it over.

 

“You’ve still got time. Just trust in yourself and your instincts and you’ll be fine, starshine.” He said softly, reaching out with a hand to ruffle his hair and laughing when he batted half-heartedly at the hand. Then, he started to reset his game pieces. “Now, let’s play another game and you can catch me up on all the court gossip that I missed while I was gone.”

 

Nyx groaned, head falling to clunk against the board in protest; sending pieces scattering all around him. “I hate you.”

 

“No, you don’t.” His dad said with a knowing grin.

 

“No,” Nyx agreed, unable to stop his smile at spending time with his father, no matter how much he hated this accursed game. “I don’t.”

 

He’d never be able to hate his dad.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Consciousness came back to him in pieces.

 

The first thing that he became aware of was the way that he felt as though he had been draped in a heavy blanket - everything was muffled and distant, like he was watching the world from far away.

 

His whole body was so _heavy_ , like weights had sunk into his bones and wrapped around his chest and were trying to drag him to the ground, and it took an indeterminate amount of time to force eyelids that felt like they were glued together open.

 

Nyx blinked slowly in the bright light, trying to take in his location and remember just why the room felt so familiar.

 

 _Is this?_ He thought lethargically, trying to push past the haze of his mind. _Is this the throne room? Why am I in the throne room?_

 

What was he doing here? He wasn’t- he wasn’t here before, at least he didn’t think he was. But if he wasn’t here before then, where was he?

 

And why did he feel like he was forgetting something?

 

At any other time, Nyx felt like he would be worried or confused or angry, but everything felt _detached_ and he couldn’t really feel anything. What was wrong with him?

 

Why did he feel like his heart should be breaking?

 

Something shoved him from behind and Nyx stumbled forwards, tripping over his own feet when they didn’t move as he expected them to - dragging along the floor slowly - and didn’t even realise that he was falling until he was jolted upright by the person that he now realised was gripping him by the shoulders.

 

Who was holding him? And why hadn’t he noticed them before now?

 

Because, now that he was aware of them, he could feel the warmth of their hands through his clothes and the weight of their grip holding him in place tightly and he had no idea how he’d managed to miss it.

 

Distantly curious, he tried to turn his head to look only to be stymied by the fact that he couldn’t make it move.

 

_What?_

 

Wanting to frown, but his facial muscles apparently also unable to comply with his demands, Nyx instead blinked at the room, processing the figure on the throne for the first time. _Father?_ He tried to ask and deep inside he felt a flare of _something_ that almost hurt. _Is that you? Why are you on uncles’ throne? What are we doing here? Can you tell me what’s happening?_

 

But he couldn’t make the words come.

 

Nyx blinked again and suddenly sound filtered back into deafening focus, highlighting just how _quiet_ his world had been previously. Everything was so loud - his heart thundered in his ears and his blood rushed in his veins and he couldn’t help but focus on the breathing of the person holding him and the rustles of clothing and scuffs of shoes on the ground - and it was all so _overwhelming_.

 

Still staring at his father, Nyx realised for the first time that the man was speaking; his lips were moving, and he was gesturing, eyes intent, and he tried to focus on his voice and _force_ the sounds to make sense.

 

Slowly, far too slowly, his mind translated the words.

 

“Nyx Ulric,” he had said. “You have been found guilty of treason against the crown. For your crimes, the only punishment is to be death.”

 

He blinked.

 

What? _What?_ He thought, adrenaline flooding through him and starting to clear away the haze in his mind. _Treason? Against the **crown**? What was he on about?_

 

Nyx tried to force his lips to move, to make sounds escape as he stared at his father in shocked horror, but it wasn’t working, and his father’s lips were moving again, and the sounds were lost to the cacophony of other noises in the room and Nyx didn’t _understand_.

 

And then he did.

 

Rough hands at his shoulders yanked him back, dragging him towards the doors, and the sharp jolt of pain was enough to force his mind to make connections and Nyx _remembered_.

 

And he knew.

 

 _I don’t know you anymore_ , he thought, unable to look away from the man who was his father and sat on his uncle’s throne as though he had the _right_ after all that he had planned, and it felt like he’d taken a sword to the chest.

 

 _I don’t know you anymore,_ Nyx thought as they dragged him away to the cells, _and I am starting to wonder if I ever actually did_.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Moving silently through the trees, weapon in hand as he tracked his target through the woods, he couldn’t help the grin that formed on his face and the figure he was following hesitated beside a stream.

 

Somnus _lunged_.

 

“Got you!” He cried as he tackled his target to the grass, turning them both mid-air so that the fall would be cushioned by his own body. Giggles rang in the air as bright blue eyes peered at him from under a mop of black hair, Nyx trying to stifle his laughs with a hand as Somnus grinned up at him. “I caught you Nyx, and you know what that means…” He trailed off as his grin turned evil and his son tried to scramble away, still laughing, only to be caught in a vice-like grip as Somnus wrapped his arms around him.

 

“ _Tickle attack!”_

 

“No, dad, don’t!” His son burst out between giggles, his whole body shaking with uncontrollable laughter as he tried to get away from Somnus and his tickling. “I give! I give! Please, stop! I surrender!” He gasped out, tears of laughter streaming down his face, and Somnus paused in his attack.

 

“You surrender, do you?”

 

Nyx nodded frantically, gulping in air. “Yes! Yes, I surrender!”

 

“ _Well_ …” He drew the word out purely to make Nyx twitch a bit in worry before he released him and watched his son scramble away, grin on his face even as he wiped at the tears. “Then I suppose that I must accept your surrender.” He said as he sat up, covered in leaves and grass and oh, but Ardyn was going to kill him for staining another set of clothing.

 

His brother just didn’t understand that Somnus didn’t care for his appearance unless necessary so, whenever he was home, he wore whatever was comfortable regardless of how it looked.

 

Nyx rolled his eyes. “ _Dad,_ ” the ten-year-old whined as Somnus reached out to ruffle his hair. “Stop it.”

 

He laughed at the pout on his son’s face as he batted his hand away. “Stop what? Are you telling me that you no longer want to spar…?” His grin widened at the yelp and the look of sheer _horror_ on Nyx’s face, the boy scrambling for the wooden blades that he’d dropped when Somnus had tackled him.

 

Rolling to his feet, Somnus walked over to where he had placed his sword beside the tree and then spun on his heel, blocking the sneak attack that his son had attempted with a loud _clack_ of wood on wood.

 

Grin sharpening, he flicked his wrists and tossed Nyx’s blades aside. “You will have to try harder than that to get your revenge, starshine.”

 

The sounds of sparring filled the clearing.

 

* * *

 

 

Nyx was curled up in the far corner of the cell, head resting on his knees as he tried desperately to fight past the haze of the drugs - and they had lowered his dosage after what he thought might have been a trial, he knew that based on the fact that he could actually _move_ even if the way that his magic wasn’t responding to him _ached_ \- to actually make sense of what was happening, when they came for him.

 

None of this made any _sense_.

 

Some of his memories were faded and blurred, others hovering just out of reach, and a startling few as clear as day, but what he remembered - what he knew to have happened - just didn’t fit with what he _knew_.

 

Because Nyx knew his father and he would _never_ do this - would never sentence his son and brother to death like this. He _wouldn’t_ , his dad was a good man, and this was so completely unlike him and Nyx just didn’t _get it_. He must have been missing something, he had to have been, because this couldn’t be real.

 

But he also couldn’t forget his father’s words, couldn’t help the way that they echoed in his mind, and he couldn’t help but see the _look_ on his face every time that he closed his eyes.

 

No. It couldn’t be true, couldn’t be real. It _couldn’t be_. His dad wouldn’t do something like this.

 

…would he?

 

The scuff of boots on the floor drew his attention, his head darting up out of reflex to check for enemies, and Nyx relaxed when he saw a familiar mop of blond hair ahead of two of the guard that he only vaguely recognised. “Magnus,” he breathed in relief, shooting to his feet, the shackles around his wrists and ankles clanging with the movement. “Can you tell me what’s happening…” He trailed off at the cold look on his friend’s face, so unlike the man that he had grown up with, who he had trained with for years; the man that was the closest thing that he’d ever had to a Shield. “Magnus?”

 

Dark eyes, normally full of laughter and trust, looked at him so dispassionately that he felt a shiver run down his spine.

 

Magnus was his _shield_ \- in bond, if not in name, and only that because they’d never felt the need to make it official, not until the time came that he became King, Nyx hadn’t wanted to bind his friend to him like that when they were both still so _young_ , when they should have time to grow both together and apart before binding themselves - and he was looking at him like he was worth less than the dirt beneath their feet and that **_hurt_** like a dagger to the heart.

 

“Magnus?”

 

His friend ignored his whisper. “Step back,” he ordered coolly, _professionally_ , as he reached to unlock the cell and Nyx followed the orders numbly, instinctively, while still trying to figure out exactly what was going on. The door opened, and the other two guards entered, grabbing him roughly and holding him in place as he went to flinch away, his wounds - his wounds from his uncle, who had attacked him from behind, and Nyx didn’t want to believe that that was real - aching. His hands were wrestled behind his back and chained together, and then the same was repeated with his ankles and Nyx still didn’t _understand_ , not really. Why was his dad _doing_ this?

 

Then Magnus entered the cell, a band of rough leather and tarnished metal and delicate runes in his hand, and Nyx’s eyes widened with shock and terror and he tried to move away, tried to struggle, but he couldn’t move, and he couldn’t fight, and Magnus _wouldn’t_ , would he? He’d grown up on the same horror stories as Nyx, had heard many a tale of the broken, empty _husks_ that magic suppression left people, and his friend - his _Shield_ \- wouldn’t do that to him.

 

And then the collar snapped shut around his neck and the world went **_silent_**.

 

Nyx couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t even _think_ , as a part of his _soul_ was torn away from him. It felt like someone had ripped his heart out of his chest, like they had pulled the blood from his veins, like they had taken a limb, and it hurt. He couldn’t feel his magic buzzing under his skin, couldn’t feel his bonds with his father and his uncle, couldn’t feel the magic of his patron, couldn’t sense the magic of the land beneath his feet, and Nyx swallowed back a whimper, unable to look at his friend. At his shield.

 

He was alone.

 

For the first time in his life, Nyx was completely alone.

 

Shivering in the sudden cold that radiated from the centre of his chest, an gaping emptiness inside of him that he didn’t have the faintest idea of how to deal with, he hardly noticed as they dragged him out of the cell and through the corridors, hardly noticed the sneers tossed at him by people he had known his entire life or the way that his bare feet scraped at stone.

 

They dragged him outside and the bright light of the sun blinded him, piercing his skull painfully, but it did nothing to warm the cold empty space inside of him.

 

And then he stumbled - was shoved - up stone steps and saw the pyre built into the centre of the platform and Nyx’s heart _sank_ and he stopped, shaking in complete terror. They wouldn’t, would they? Death-by-fire hadn’t been considered a valid execution technique in _centuries_. Even if they planned to go through with this, even if it was actually happening, they wouldn’t burn him alive. They wouldn’t.

 

But they dragged him to the stake and chained him to it and Nyx’s heart was beating so rapidly that he could hardly hear anything over the rush of his blood in his ears as Magnus attached the chain on the stake to the collar around his neck. Still, he saw the disgusted sneer on his Shield’s face, heard his muttered words as he turned away, and for a moment emotional pain nearly overwhelmed his terror.

 

“Fucking _traitor,_ ” Magnus sneers and something inside of Nyx broke at the hatred in his voice.

 

The guards walked away, leaving Nyx alone on the platform - trying desperately to breathe through his terror - and he was going to _burn,_ and he had no idea how this could get any worse than it already was.

 

He didn’t want to die.

 

Then, Gil dragged his uncle out in chains and his father was there and he realised just how wrong he was.

 

 _No_ , he thought, staring in horror as his uncle was literally pulled up the steps of a second platform. _No_.

 

His father was speaking, and Gil was blank-faced as he dragged uncle Ardyn to a cross - a _cross_ \- and Nyx couldn’t believe this, he couldn’t, he refused to believe this. He lunged forwards, trying desperately to get free as they brought out the nails.

 

“No,” he begged, straining against his restraints, ignoring the way that the shackles cut deeply into his skin. Nyx reached for magic that wasn’t there, for anything that could _help_ him, but he had nothing but his own voice. “no, father, please, stop this, please, please, don’t do this, _father_ …”

 

But his pleas were ignored.

 

Ardyn _screamed_ as they hammered in the first nail and Nyx screamed with him, begging his father to stop this, please, even as tears streamed down his face and blood streamed down his skin as he tried desperately to get free.

 

“Father, _please_ , stop, you’re hurting him, please...” He screamed, sobbing, as the strongest man he knew screamed and writhed and begged on the cross, pale and bloody and oh-so broken, and he couldn’t _breathe_ but he didn’t stop trying - couldn’t stop trying - to help him even as he choked on the collar and his vision started to go black.

 

This was his uncle, the man who had helped to raise him, who just wanted to help people, who he’d thought his dad had _loved_ , and Nyx had to help him, no matter how much it hurt, no matter that he was tearing his wrists and ankles and neck bloody and raw, no matter that he might die doing so.

 

Nyx choked on air as his father - no, not his father, never his father, his dad wouldn’t _do this_ \- appeared next to him and grabbed his braids roughly, yanking him back hard enough that Nyx was seeing stars. “Foolish child,” he muttered, crushing a potion over his neck and healing the wounds there and Nyx could breathe again.

 

“Just stop, please just stop. Give him a quick death instead of this travesty, please, father.” He sobbed, scared and grieving and heartbroken.

 

His uncle was begging, asking for it to stop, asking what he had one wrong, asking _why_ , bloodstained and broken, and his fathe- Somnus was just standing next to him, staring dispassionately at the sight and it made him so _angry._

 

“At least put him out of his misery, prove that you have _some_ compassion left and let just let him **_die_** instead of this, damn it!” Nyx screamed, raging and cursing, but it made no difference, nobody listened.

 

Nobody cared.

 

All the while, ever so slowly, his uncle grew weaker and weaker, more and more delirious with pain and blood loss, and all that Nyx could do was watch and whisper apologies in an increasingly hoarse voice. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry uncle, I’m sorry…” Repeating himself over and over, desperate for the man to know, even if Nyx didn’t even know what he was apologising for.

 

Maybe for not finding out in time to warn him. Or not being strong enough to stop this, back in his fath- Somnus’ office. Or for not being able to _help_.

 

Or for not realising the monster that wore his father’s skin.

 

Or maybe Nyx was apologising for all of that and more, for everything else that was happening, for just not being enough.

 

And then even his voice failed him.

 

All he could do was watch.

 

The sun had set and risen again by the time that his uncle finally succumbed, and Nyx slumped against his restraints, staring blankly at the body of his beloved uncle even as they pulled his unmoving corpse off of the cross without care.

 

Nyx couldn’t take his eyes off of that blood-stained wood, even when they came for him. Even when they removed the shackles from his limbs, even when they dragged him down one set of steps and up another. Even when his wrists bled, even as he left bloody footprints in his wake, even as the collar cut into the wounds in his neck.

 

He only moved his eyes when they held him against the cross.

 

When his uncle’s blood - Ardyn’s still rapidly cooling blood - soaked into his clothes and stained his skin, mixing with his own blood, and Nyx bowed his head in grief.

 

And then, his world flared _white-hot_ as they drove the nails into his skin, and Nyx _screamed_ \- cries of agony ripping themselves from his already hoarse throat.

 

It _hurt_ , more than Nyx could have ever believed, and every second just hurt more and more and he couldn’t _escape_ , no matter how he writhed.

 

By the time that the pain faded enough that he could think, by the time that he came back to himself, he was panting from pain and exertion and he couldn’t **breathe** ; there was a weight on his chest that felt like he was being crushed and he couldn’t feel his hands and every muscle in his body _strained_ against his own weight just to lessen the pain.

 

Nyx was terrified.

 

_(I don’t want to die, please, I don’t want to die, not like this, not at these hands, not for these reasons, please, I don’t want to **die** )_

 

But he raised his chin, ignoring the agony that moving caused, ignoring the blood splattered across his body, and he met the eyes of the man who had raised him: who Nyx had loved, who he had thought he’d known, who was _kin_.

 

Nyx met his father’s eyes and he refused to look away, refused to back down even though he was in more pain than he could imagine, defiant to the very last.

 

And the last thing that Nyx saw was that man’s cold, uncaring eyes as he murdered him. The last thing he felt was the sharp pain of a spear - _his spear_ , the one that had been a birthday gift from him, he had spent hours learning to use with this very man, that Nyx had loved for the bond that it represented and now hated – wielded by his _dad_ as it pierced his gut and _sliced_.

 

His world slowly faded to black and the last thing that he remembered was being butchered by his own father.

 

Nyx Hypnos Ulric, son of Somnus, Crown Prince of Solheim, died that day, on a cross, executed for standing for what was right.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Somnus smiled down at his son; who was tucked into bed, surrounded by a virtual army of stuffed animals and clutching onto the coeurl plush that he’d had since he was born.

 

“Goodnight, starshine.” He said as he moved to leave, grin on his face as Nyx grabbed for his hand.

 

 _“Dad_ ,” the eight-year-old whined. “You forgot my story.”

 

“Oh,” Somnus drawled, hiding his smile as he turned back around and raising an eyebrow at his young son. “And here I was, thinking that you no longer wanted bedtime stories.”

 

Nyx scowled adorably, and he had to resist the urge to take a picture to show Ardyn and Gil later. “ _Dad._ ”

 

Laughing softly, he perched on the edge of the bed, shifting the faded yellow chocobo teddy out of the way and onto his lap. “Well then, if you really want a tale then I am sure that Lord Obsidian the Second and I can conjure one. Any requests, my lords, my ladies, your highness?” He asked pompously, gesturing dramatically to his son and his pile of stuffed toys, and Nyx stifled a bright giggle that warmed his heart.

 

“Battles!” He cheered before pausing to glance down at his coeurl. “And ‘Lena wants it to have a happy ending!”

 

“Battles for his Highness, and a happy ending for Lady Selena of the Solheim Coeurls. I am certain that we can tell a story with those features, do you not agree, Lord Obsidian?” Somnus held the chocobo to his ear as though listening to something and nodded seriously for a moment. “Yes, I do believe that that would work, my thanks Lord Obsidian.”

 

Nyx giggled again and Somnus smiled back at his son. “Are you ready, Your Highness?” When his son nodded frantically, he forced his features into a semblance of solemnity and continued. “Then lay down, young prince, and listen to my tale…”

 

And so Somnus spun a tale of knights and princes of a wonderful kingdom and of a great evil from very far away. He told of two brothers, two princes, who were always together - who always stood at each other’s side no matter what - and how they grew. Of the elder prince, the soon to be King, who was a brave and wise healer. Of the younger prince, better with a blade, who could talk anyone around to their schemes. Of their knight friend, tall and solemn, who was always at their back no matter the danger they charged into.

 

In hushed whispers, he spoke of their journey into adulthood and their battles against the great evil, from a land so far away that it was unknown, that hoped to destroy all life in the world and ate at people from the inside out.

 

Then, watching his son gasp and cheer in time with the story, Somnus told of the brothers’ triumph over the evil - of how they had found a way to cure those afflicted and had met the eyes of the puppet and had commanded:

 

“ _You are Not Welcome Here_.” Somnus thundered, Nyx enthusiastically cheering the words alongside him. “And at those words, spoken by the Sage-King, cleverest and bravest in all of the lands and supported by his brother and his friend, the great evil was forced out of the man who was taken as a puppet and banished from their lands for all of eternity. Victorious, the heroes returned home to their people after having saved the world and they all lived happily ever after. The End.”

 

Yawning, his son snuggled into his pillows. “I liked that story, dad.” He murmured sleepily. “You ‘n Uncle Ardyn ‘n Uncle Gil are gonna win against the scourge like that one day, I know it.”

 

“Of course, starshine, your Uncle Ardyn is the strongest person in the world and the scourge cannot defeat him.” He said softly, reaching out to brush loose strands of hair away from Nyx’s forehead. “And I am glad that you liked it, perhaps Lord Obsidian and I will tell it again another day.”

 

Nyx leaned into the touch. “’Kay. Love you.”

 

Somnus smiled gently. “And I you.” As Nyx drifted off, he stood again to leave, turning off the small light at his bedside and hesitating at the door. Looking back at his sleeping son, Somnus knew that while his brother was the strongest man in the world, he was certainly the luckiest.

 

“Sweet dreams, starshine.”

 

* * *

 

 

 

He didn’t so much open his eyes as become suddenly aware of the endless void of _nothingness_ around him.

 

Nothing hurt, here, and even though he could still feel the blood trickling down his skin, could still _see_ the _nails_ buried in his skin - and Nyx couldn’t help but _stare_ at that, even though it made him sick to his stomach, even though it made his breath quicken with fear and loss and grief and _rage_ , even though it reminded him of so many things that he didn’t want to remember - and the sheer _absence_ of any pain was almost painful in and of itself.

 

He’d been hurting for so long - at the hands of those that he’d _trusted_ \- that feeling nothing was almost worse than the pain itself had been.

 

Almost.

 

But Nyx’s mind was clearer than it had been in _days_ ; since he had talked to Bahamut and gone to speak with his fath-Somnus, with Somnus. Injuries and drugs and magical suppression and pain had kept him in a constant haze that was just now fading, and he could finally _think_ again.

 

And the only thought in his mind was _why?_

 

 _Why?_ Because he just didn’t _know_ \- what was the point of all of this? Why did his fa-Somnus believe Bahamut’s words?  When had he changed? Did he actually believe it all, or was it just for a _throne?_

 

Had he ever actually known his dad?

 

 _Why?_ He thought and suddenly he was so angry.

 

 ** _“Why?!”_** Nyx screamed into the darkness, not truly expecting an answer but the way that his voice echoed in the void just pissed him off even more. _“Why, damn it, just fucking tell me_ why _?! What did we do to make you do this to us?! What did we_ do? _”_ They had to have done something, they _had to_ , Nyx had to believe that - he had to believe that his f- that Somnus wouldn’t brutally murder someone without reason.

 

He had to believe that. Because otherwise, he had never known him at all.

 

But, back in the office, he had said that they were going to _help_.

 

“ _That wasn’t helping! You didn’t even fucking_ try _to help us with this so-called corruption. You don’t_ crucify _people that you’re trying to help, so tell me fucking why?!”_

 

Nyx fell silent, panting despite the knowledge deep in his soul that he didn’t actually need to breathe.

 

_(and why would he need to breathe?_

 

 _He was_ dead _. Murdered by his own father for choosing to stand against him, for standing for what was right, and he remembered the sharp pain of spear slipping between his ribs and the_ look _in his- in Somnus’ eyes._

 

 _He was_ dead _, why would he need to breathe?)_

 

His words echoed endlessly in the silence of the abyss.

 

“Just-” He said, voice cracking on the word. “Just, _please_ , tell me why?” Nyx sobbed out, expecting nothing but the silence of his own personal hell - a reminder of his failure.

 

_“I cannot answer that, my little star.”_

 

Nyx’s head shot up, eyes wide, at the words that came from nowhere and everywhere all at once, and his heart sank when he saw nothing but darkness. _You’re just imagining things, Nyx, the person who used to call you that is long dead. You’re alone_.

 

Something he cannot see reached out, a tendril of pure energy caressing his cheek and ruffling at his hair. _“You are not alone, star-knight. You are never alone, I am always with you.”_

 

And then he found himself surrounded by the comforting presence of someone he hadn’t really known that he’d missed. Nyx had been so young when she had died, had so few memories of her, but he had never felt safer than right now; wrapped in pure energy that felt like rich chocolate and bitter coffee and sweet honey and _protectorsafefamilysafesafe **safe**_ **.**

 

Nyx relaxed, shielded from the world and all that would harm him, safe in her non-corporeal arms, and allowed himself to _break_.

 

“Nana _,”_ He whined, falling into her embrace, his magic - so happy to be free, unrestricted, no longer unable to protect him - dancing and merging and hiding itself in her presence, warming the part of himself that had felt so _cold_ after days of having his magic _gone_ ; always just out of reach, unable to be used. _“Nana_.” He sobbed, feeling like the child that he had been when she - _they_ \- had lived.

 

Safe in his nana’s magic, Nyx broke.

 

And then a foreign presence reached for him, this one cold and serpentine and so powerful that it made Nyx _ache_. It shoved his nana aside violently, tearing them apart and if he could have then Nyx would have screamed at the sudden loss. The presence reached for him and wrapped him - _all of him_ , everything that he was and everything that he could have been and everything that might have been, everything that made him _Nyx_ \- in its coils and then it lit Nyx on **_fire_**.

 

Even through the agony of having everything that he was exposed and _burned_ , Nyx still heard what was said next.

 

**_“YOU HAVE CHOSEN TO STAND WITH THE ACCURSED-SAGE, SON OF SOMNUS, AND SO BE IT. HIS FATE SHALL BE YOUR FATE, EVERMORE”_ **

 

* * *

 

 

The door slammed open, jolting him awake in an instant.

 

“Dad! Daddy!”

 

Dismissing the blade that he’d summoned with an absent thought, Somnus rolled over and caught his son as Nyx threw himself onto the bed and into his arms.

 

“Starshine…?” He asked, blinking blearily down at the shaking form of his son and taking in the red eyes and constant tears with increasing worry. “Nyx, starshine, what’s wrong love?”

 

Nyx shook his head against his chest, tucking himself as close as he could with the stuffed coeurl in his arms even as he shook with great, heaving sobs.

 

Somnus ran a hand over messy hair, wrapping his other arm around his son’s shoulders and holding him close. “Hey,” he said softly, rocking them both gently. “Come on, starshine, you can tell me.”

 

“I had a dream and you were gone just like nana is,” Nyx sobbed out in a single breath and Somnus closed his eyes for a moment against the sharp pain of his mother’s death mere months ago before he opened them again and looked down at his son. “And I looked for you and I couldn’t find you or Uncle Gil or Uncle Ardyn and I was so _scared_ daddy, don’t leave me like nana did please daddy, don’t leave me alone please-” He cut himself off to take a deep breath, tears streaming down his face with increased frequency, and Somnus used to opportunity to pull his son closer and hush him.

 

“Shush, shush, Nyx, I’m here, daddy’s here.” He repeated, over and over, rubbing Nyx’s back and waiting for the tears to subside a little.

 

When they did, he tilted his sons chin up so that he could look him in the eyes. “I will never leave you starshine,” Somnus vowed as his son trembled against him, tears drying on his face and tiny hands clutching at his stained shirt. “Whenever you need me, whatever you need me for, no matter how old you get or where in the world you are, I will _always_ be there for you. Okay?”

 

He nodded. “Okay, daddy.”

 

Somnus smiled gently. “Okay starshine, now, bedtime.” Nyx looked ready to protest, a spark of fear in his eyes at the idea of sleeping, and he cut him off before he could speak. “Why don’t we have a sleepover? You can stay here with me so if you dream again all you have to do is wake up and I will be here.”

 

Looking much happier, Nyx nodded enthusiastically, his face splitting in a giant yawn as he finally acknowledged how tired he was. Somnus laid back down, positioning them both so that his son was curled up against his side, still clutching onto both himself and his teddy.

 

“Night, daddy.” He said as he fell asleep, a small smile on his face.

 

“Goodnight starshine.” He whispered around a yawn to his sleeping son, unable to stop himself from brushing a hand across sleep-relaxed features. “Sweet dreams.”

 

 _Parenting is still easier than dealing with the nobles_ , was his last thought before he drifted off.

 

* * *

 

 

Nyx _screamed_.

 

Every cell in his body was _burning_ , seconds stretching into eternity as every single nerve ending lit itself on **_fire_** and his body tore itself apart and was put back together over and over and _over_. Trapped in a never-ending cycle of torment as the pain increased and increased to the point that he felt like he was dying again, as though there was fire in his veins and acid doused his skin and every part of his body was in utter _agony_. The pain was so great that he couldn't see anything - couldn't hear anything, not even his own screams that ripped themselves from his throat - couldn't even tell if he had his eyes open, and he would give anything for it to just _end_.

 

Then, in an instant, it did.

 

He was left shaking on the cold ground, face covered in tears and snot and blood, gasping for breath in a body that felt too small and skin that felt too tight and he couldn’t _breathe,_ there was a weight on his chest and nails in his skin and his dad - not his dad never his dad this wasn’t his _dad_ \- had cold, cold eyes and it hurt so _much_ and…

 

Nyx sobbed, trying his best to curl into a ball with limbs that wouldn’t cooperate, and every breath that he managed to suck in hurt, everything hurt, and his magic felt _wrong_ and he was terrified, and he wanted his nana.

 

Why was he here? Why was he _alive_?

 

A presence suddenly beside him and Nyx _flinched_ , heart beating rapidly and eyes flying open as he brought his arms up to defend himself; unable to help the way that his heartbeat ticked up another notch in terror at the way that his hands just flop at the ends of them and _he can’t feel them._

 

He swallowed, once, twice, and coughed blood before opening his mouth and trying to speak; pushing away the pain in his throat from screaming. He wanted to be alone, he wanted this person to go away, but nothing came out when he tried, and Nyx was so _scared_.

 

And then he recognised the presence and fear turned into heart-stopping **_terror_**.

 

Scrambling backwards until he could go no further, Nyx made himself as small as he could while shaking uncontrollably. “ _Please_ ,” he begged, cowering away as Ramuh - not grandfather, not _grandfather_ , Nyx had trusted him, but he had to have known, how couldn’t he have known, and no more, please _no more_ \- reached for him, unable to stop the fresh tears slipping down his face.

 

_“Stop, please, no more. I’ll be good, I swear, I’ll do whatever you want, just please, no more, let me die, please, I’m sorry, **please**.”_

 

 

* * *

 

 

Somnus had no idea what he was doing.

 

He was only barely _sixteen_ and he’d been _drunk_ and so had she and neither of them had expected the consequences of a night that they could hardly remember, and he had no idea what to do with a kid.

 

He wasn’t ready to be a dad. Six, Somnus was still little more than a child himself and he’d never really been around younger children and what did you even _do_ with a baby? What if he broke him? Babies were meant to be fragile, he thought, and Somnus wasn’t good with fragile things.

 

Beside him, his brother stopped laughing at him long enough to take the baby from their longsuffering Shield and coo at him, brushing gentle fingers across his head and why couldn’t this have happened to Ardyn? Ardyn knew what to do with babies! Ardyn was a _healer_ and plenty of people had asked him to hold babies before! He’d be a far better father than Somnus would.

 

What was he even supposed to do?

 

Looking over at him and seeing the panic on his face, Ardyn’s smile gentled. “Somnus, come over here,” he called and Somnus answered, ignoring the urge to be a brat and get as far away from them as possible. Once he was there his brother gestured for him to hold his arms out, gently transferring the baby over to him. “You hold him like _this_ … make sure to support the head and hold him close to your body… there, just like that…”

 

Ardyn stepped back, moving to stand next to Gil, and for a moment all Somnus felt was sheer _panic_ at being left alone with the kid and then he looked down at the content figure in his arms and his heart **_melted_**.

 

Reaching out with a shaking hand, Somnus ran sword-calloused fingers over a head of downy dark hair and staring in awe at familiar features on a chubby face. “Oh _wow_ ,” He breathed in shock because he could easily pick out the features that his son - his _son_ \- had inherited from him and he hadn’t realised that people could fall in love so quickly.

 

Blue eyes blinked open, looking up at Somnus blearily, and he was captivated. “Hello, starshine,” he said softly, feeling his face stretch in a massive grin. “I’m your daddy and I love you so much already.”

 

“I’ll always protect you, Nyx,” Somnus vowed quietly, swearing it to the old gods and the new. “You’ll always be safe with me.”

 

Somnus was too young and he had no idea how to be a dad, didn’t even remember his own father, but Six strike him down if he wasn’t going to do his best for his son.

 

For Nyx, Somnus would become the best father in the world.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd blame the discord for this but I had this idea long before I joined that. Still, they helped me make this a lot worse than originally planned :)
> 
> I am planning a happier sequel to this, focusing on Nyx and Ardyn reuniting, alongside some possible other fics focusing on Nyx's relationship with Ardyn pre-betrayal, but those will probably be awhile.
> 
> Anyway, merry christmas, happy holiday's, hope everyone likes this, thanks for reading, tell me what you think :D


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